


Peter Pan

by uh_oh_my_lasagna



Series: Yandere Asra [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Mental Health Issues, Multi, Other, THAT WAS CURSED ANYWAYS, This some dark shit, V I O L E N C E, WKJNGEFOJDCKJ, head bashing!!, i ship mc with head bashing, i’m so sorry asra look away from this one, this fic is VIOLENT and DARK and it has some trigger warnings oof, unhealthy realtionship, we all love head bashing in this house, we blackin out, yandere!Asra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 20:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uh_oh_my_lasagna/pseuds/uh_oh_my_lasagna
Summary: I saw yandere!Asra on Instagram and went “why tf not”TW for blood and violence, gore, possessiveness, BAD MENTAL HEALTH OOF,  dark themes, and death uwu;;This isn’t a happy one folks 😬😬





	Peter Pan

**Author's Note:**

> This is for you, phreakiez and tauxian on instagram 😔👊 both of your yandere!Asra posts had me like UWU and I love your work a lot!!

“Asra...” a voice choked out, drool running down their chin and onto his hand. It was warm.

“Asra... You’re.... You’re hurting me...” the voice gasped airlessly, sounding somewhat familiar now.

Asra slowly blinked into focus.

Oh no.

_Oh_ _no_.

He flinched back so hard he hit his arm against the counter of his—_their_ shop. The person—his love, his **star**—gasped like a fish out of water, sucking in the air they so desperately needed. They coughed from how fast they were taking in breaths, rolling onto their side and grasping their neck.

Tears ran down their cheeks, and it was then that Asra realized he fucked up.

“Oh no...” he whispered, voice wavering like a boat in choppy, stormy water, spiraling down, down, down... “I—I didn’t meant to—“

The person trembled hard on the floor, eyes once full of love, reverence, _him_, now replaced with the single minded fear all beautiful, doe eyed rabbits had before their predator.

Asra felt disgusted with himself for causing his light such pain. He watched as they started to crawl and slide away from him (just like Faust did).

“I didn’t mean to,” He tried again, desperately this time. He felt and sounded weak, scared. _God_, he was scared. What did they think of him now?

Did they...

Reaching out, Asra said, “I—Please, I didn’t—“

But they moved away.

Asra felt an ice cold dagger stab through his gut.

No... They couldn’t...

Asra looked into their eyes, at their body, their stance.

_Could_ _they?_

“Get away from me,” they whispered—no, _whimpered_ more like. It hurt Asra to hear them like this, so he did as he was told. He moved way from his star, his lover, his light, his one and only. His other half.

But they... They couldn’t...

_They_ _couldn’t_....

“I—“

“Leave.”

It was one simple word. _Only_ _one_. And yet it was tearing him apart faster than a house in a tornado. He felt mad, almost, that they had this much power over him. But he allowed this to happen, so he was to blame for this power imbalance.

After a long pause, he shakily, fearfully whispered, “No.” His star pulled in a shaky breath and stared at him with wide eyes. Their body started to tremble so hard he could almost feel the vibrations in the air.

Oh god. _They_ _were_ _afraid_ _of_ _him_.

“No, no, no,” he whispered. “Darling—“

“Don’t call me that!” They shouted, suddenly and forcefully. Asra jumped as if he were burned, which he might as well have been. His star, his beautiful star was breathing heavily now, determination and fear making them unable to think clearly. To know that he would _never_...

“Okay, okay,” he said in a low, soothing voice, slowly rising to his feet. He kept his hands up in surrender while his star backed away further from him, gripping the curtain to their back room like a lifeline.

They stared at each other for a long, long time.

“Get out,” they commanded breathlessly, their eyes shining with that beautiful, flaming rebellion he loved oh so much, but hated with a burning passion.

“Now, love—“

“GET OUT!” They shouted, magic bleeding through their voice, their words, into the air and clogging his body. Somehow, Asra was backing away from _them_ now, breath coming in fast.

“No, darling, I know you don’t want that!” He cried out, limbs moving against his will. “I _know_ you don’t want that!”

They rose to their feet, stance defensive as they followed him towards the door.

“Sweetheart, lovebug,” he tried desperately. Why couldn’t they understand? Didn’t they know it was a complete accident? Just him getting away with his fantasies again and acting them out in real time?

“I don’t want you here anymore, Asra,” they said, tears rolling down their cheeks again.

Asra felt his world split apart then crash together in flames. His heart was in _agony_, pure and simple.

“I don’t want you anywhere near me,” they continued.

Asra opened his mouth to defend himself, explain _why_ what just happened happened, tell them he loved them, tell them _everything_, but they were already flinging the door open with their beautiful, wonderful, _charming_ magic and shoving him out the door with it. He landed outside with a grunt, and before he could say anything else, the door was being slammed shut and locked.

_“NO!” _He screamed, throwing himself onto the door. He banged his fist desperately against it, crying even more desperately, “No, star, honey, baby—I’m sorry, baby, _please_—“ then eventually, “I _LOVE_ YOU!”

No response.

Only silence.

Sanity thinning, Asra ran to the side of the shop and looked around wildly, then saw his way in. The old stain glass window. _Of_ _course_.

He punched his way into the shop through the window, and heard a startled gasp, from within. He looked into the shop and found his love, _his __love_, standing by the stairs.

“Asra!” They gasped in horror, backing into the stair’s railing. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m coming to get you, honeybun,” he said sweetly, knowing full and well that they just weren’t _feeling_ well right now. Because they would _never_ lock him out the house on purpose.

No. No it just... Didn’t _fit_ right. Nothing could explain the logistics of it. So, they were sick.

Yeah.

_Just_ _sick_.

He came to with a book being slammed into his nose and his feet swept out from under him. He let out an angry cry and lashed his magic out, hearing a startled scream somewhere ahead of him.

Asra landed on the floor with a dull thud, the smell of iron stuffing his nose up like cotton. He gawked at the amount of red bleeding out from it.

No one had made him bleed this much before...

He looked up, vision red from fury, and saw his perpetrator hurrying, crying to the second story window. He got up slowly, face tilted down to find the book used against him lying on the floor, splatters of his own blood covering it.

He picked it up quickly, then, in a flash of speed and magic and raw _rage_, and took two steps, grabbed the person by the back of their head, dug his fingers in _hard_, and smashed their face against the wall.

He smashed and smashed and smashed and smashed and smashed and smashed and smashed and smashed and smashed and _smashed_ until he was satisfied.

He pulled their head back and looked at the unrecognizable, bloody red glob, then tutted, held the body against the wall, and slapped them across the face twice, then bashed the top of their head, with the book. Every hit to their face was squishy and bony now.

Their face was broken beyond repair. Asra felt pleased about this. He was glad that such a dangerous person could no longer be a threat to him or his lover again.

Smiling, he let go of their head, letting it fall to the floor with a comical squashing sound. He smiled more at that.

It was funny, really! Heads _always_ sounded like pumpkins when he was done with them.

Chuckling to himself, Asra kicked the body to the side and glanced around the room. Checking to see that everything was in place, Asra left the room with an air of peace and calm. Everything was just _right_ in the world when he got a good head bashing.

Sighing, Asra glided down the stairs. It wasn’t until he saw the broken window that he realized what had just happened.

The book.

The stairs.

The blood.

The screaming.

The _blood_.

The smashing.

_The_ _body_.

Almost too soon, Asra’s high was gone, and his whole body was cold and heavy. He sprinted back up the stairs, to their room, and—

Blood was _everywhere_. It covered the walls and the blankets and pillows strewn along the floor. His love laid crumpled like a piece of paper beneath it all, face utterly _destroyed_.

Asra let out an inhuman scream and ran to their side, touching them desperately, chanting spell after spell to make them better, make their face sew back together, skull reform, brain become un-splattered. He brought them back to their true form, and picked them up afterward. He carried them down the steps to the front of the store, placing them gently in the room they used for card readings.

He ran a hand through their beautiful hair, then searched their house for the proper spell book about necromancy.

————————

...

...

It didn’t work.

_IT_ _DIDN’T_ _WORK_.

IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDNT WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK IT DIDN’T WORK.

Asra cried harshly for his dead lover for no more than two minutes. His world was a blur now. He remembered picking them up swiftly, then walking down to the peer he grew up in. Everything almost felt cold and empty, had it not been for the fluttering in his stomach from his lover’s cool touch.

He climbed carefully under his childhood dock, quickly finding his gate hidden behind a tickle of magic and soft seashells.

Asra paused, weighing his options. He knew the outside world wouldn’t approve of what he was about to do—_it_ _never_ _did_—but it was necessary for his lover’s survival.

He looked to their face.

He smiled.

It was fine. It was all going to be fine. They were both going to wake up in there, and everything was going to go back to normal.

A place like Neverland was better than the real world anyway.

With a smile, covered in blood, hand full of glass shards, nose throbbing, heart going a mile a minute, Asra opened the portal, and stepped through with a smile.

His star was going to _love_ this.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi check out phreakiez on Instagram their art is AWESOME! AND tauxian bc his COSPLAY is awesome 💖💖💖💖
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!!!


End file.
